“That’s right.”
“Did he mention meeting anyone? Someone in one of the ports he sailed into? Maybe someone he took on the boat with him?”
“No. He wanted to make the trip on his own. Captain the yacht by himself. It was a lifelong dream.”
“What was the name of the boat?”
“BUZZ Word.For his company.”
Chase settled back in his seat. He dug around on Google a little longer, but didn’t find anything useful.
With a glance at Harper, he typed inElemental Chic. On the webpage, he discovered the company was five years old, a partnership between Harper and a woman named Shana Davis. According to the articles he read, the business was amazingly successful.
Chase had always been attracted to successful women. Harper’s business acumen only made the pull he felt toward her increase.
It didn’t matter. The last thing he needed was to be sucked into a family that ran a criminal enterprise, no matter how attractive the daughter might be.
Chase forced himself to focus on work. He would find Michael—hopefully unharmed. Then head back to Dallas, where he would put Harper Winston out of his mind. He’d call Marla Chambers and invite her over for the weekend.
Sex was always good between them. And their relationship was far from exclusive. He’d spend some time with Marla, enjoy some mutually satisfying sex and forget the woman he wanted but couldn’t have.
After a brief stopover in Miami, the plane landed right on time, 3:30 p.m. at Queen Beatrix International Airport. The contact Chase had hired was waiting when they walked out the departure gate, pulling their carry-on bags.
The hot Caribbean sun shone down from a cloudless blue sky. The temperature stood at eighty-five degrees, and a dry wind sifted through the fronds on a row of palm trees along the side of the road.
Aruba was part of the Netherlands, its capital city Oranjestad, with an arid climate and sixty-nine square miles of cactus-strewed hills and white-sand beaches. The total population, a little over a hundred thousand, was a mix of Spanish, European, Black and Indian. It was one of the most popular tourist destinations in the Caribbean.
Chase walked up to the big, sandy-haired Dutchman he had hired, a guy named—what else—Dutch, who stuck out a wide, meaty hand in welcome.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garrett. I am Dutch van Noord. You can count on me to take care of whatever you need.”
“It’s just Chase. Good to meet you, Dutch. The lady is Harper Winston.”
“Please call me Harper,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
“My car is parked in the lot. If you will please follow me.” He took the handles of both bags and started tugging them across the asphalt parking lot. When he reached a white Suburban, he paused to unlock the doors, loaded their bags into the rear and reached down to help Harper into the front passenger seat.
“I’m fine in the back,” she said and climbed in without assistance.
She was letting Chase take the lead, for which he was grateful. Just having her along was trouble enough. It took considerable willpower to ignore the faint arousal that hummed through him whenever he looked at her. Just the scent of her perfume, a soft, fragrant jasmine, turned him on.
They settled themselves and put on their seat belts. Dutch climbed in and started the engine, pulled the SUV out of the parking lot.
“You are staying at the Renaissance Resort and Casino, yes? At the marina?”
Harper had made the arrangements in Oranjestad. The hotel was at the harbor whereBUZZ Wordhad been docked, the last place Harper had heard from Michael before his disappearance. Chase knew the hotel. He had been to Aruba, but only once, and for pleasure not business.
“That’s the place,” he said.
As the SUV traveled along Lloyd Smith Boulevard from the airport to the hotel, Harper sat quietly in the seat behind him. Chase turned to look at her, found her staring out the window, her eyes full of worry.
“We’ll check in and get settled,” he said. “Then see what we can find out down at the marina.”
She just nodded, her gaze still glued to the arid landscape passing by outside, various forms of cacti and thorny shrubs, Aruba being desert, not tropics. Harper’s face looked pale, and tension formed lines across her forehead. It was the first time he had seen her succumb to uncertainty. Chase didn’t like the way it made him feel.
“Look at me.”
She blinked, slowly turned away from the window, and her troubled gaze found his.
